


expensive cars, good champagne

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Dates, M/M, Rich Louis, Sugar Baby Harry, Sugar Daddy Louis, University Student Harry, although it's v light and could be ignored, louis is rich and harry isn't and they go on an expensive date, that's all so please don't be turned away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7044250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Harry closes the distance, sealing their lips and feeling his stomach jump. Louis’ lips are soft, and he kisses slow, like he wants to savor the moment. It’s slow and wonderful, Louis teasing Harry’s lips with his tongue for only a moment before he pulls away.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You’ll text me, yeah?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I will,” Harry replies.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>or, Harry goes on a first date with Louis and it's so much more than he thought it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	expensive cars, good champagne

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gayficlets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayficlets/gifts).



> Hi gayficlets! I'm super sorry this is late and I hope you don't mind. I had fun writing it though, so!
> 
> Thank you to the mods for organizing this exchange (even though I wasn't originally part of it). [Z](http://millionairelouis.tumblr.com/) and [B](http://larryismyotpuniverse.tumblr.com/) get big mentions for being the bestest friends and cheer leaders! <3 Also, thank you to [hellyeahot4](http://hellyeahot4.tumblr.com/) for helping beta!
> 
> Sorry in advance for the extra spaces, I'll fix them when I have more time. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Xx

 

There was a point in Harry’s life where he had everything figured out; he’d go to university in Manchester for a fine art/media degree specializing in photography and continue his photography blog on the side. It was already kind of popular in college because of his friends and family spreading the news around town, which was why he was hoping it’d go well in university. He could gain popularity from classmates, teachers, and friends.

 

Now, though, let’s just say his plans didn’t turn out as he’d hoped. He maybe gained ten followers throughout the course of his first year in uni. Oh, and his mum was laid off because the company she worked with was closing, so she had to start all over. That meant no more monthly money transfers for Harry.

 

So not only was Harry a poor uni student in his second year, but he also had to get a job at a local restaurant as a waiter, while his blog and life fell apart around him.

 

Even still, Harry pushed through as much as he could, still making time to focus on his blog and be active on it, posting new picture sets every week or as often as he could. Harry was dedicated to his blog—aesthetically-pleasing-everythings on Tumblr, of course—and he couldn’t give it up no matter how unpopular it was.

 

Harry’s professor, Miss Vile, always complimented him on his work and continuously praised him for his dedication and hardwork towards her class. She was probably Harry’s favorite teacher he’d ever had, always so sweet where she was hard on the other (small amount of) students, who were specializing in photography as well. Plus, she was always there for him to talk to, kind of like Aunt Patty from the bakery he worked at when he was ~~in college~~ back home.

 

Sometimes Harry wishes he were back home, away from all the stressful projects for his classes and his stressful boss Ben and just life in general. He could take up shifts at the bakery again and help his mum out, take his cat Dusty out on walks, simple things like that. He’d certainly be much happier. It seems the only times Harry is happy is when he’s behind his camera or when he’s managed a night off to spend with his best mate, Liam.

 

Speaking of, the tattooed man walks in on Harry’s sulk fest—yet another of the many he’s had this month since starting his second year of uni. His eyes fall on Harry, who’s sprawled across his bed in socks and a jumper, hair pulled back in a messy bun, and they no longer show surprise for the state Harry and his room are in. “Are you actually watching Brave or beating yourself up again?” he asks smoothly, pushing Harry over on his bed to make room.

 

“Shut up,” Harry responds, lazily slapping Liam’s arm. The new tattoo he just got a week ago on his shoulder looks amazing. Harry wishes he had enough for another one. “I have to work in two hours; I’m allowed to sulk.”

 

Liam gives Harry a pointed look, who rolls his eyes and looks back at the TV. “Did you already finish your compilation then? I know it isn’t due until Monday but still.”

 

“I got it, Li,” Harry insists, eyes glancing to the portfolio sitting on his desk. “It’s all done and put together. If it wasn’t I wouldn’t be sitting here half naked, would I?”

 

Liam shrugs, then says, “Just making sure.” He never is bothered by Harry’s nakedness anymore. It might be because they’ve been good friends since the very beginning of uni last year, or because of that month there where they thought a friends with benefits relationship was their thing. It definitely wasn't. Either way, they’re best mates now and Harry is glad Liam doesn’t have a problem with him stripping.

 

A few minutes later, after they both focus on the TV, Liam says, “ So I’m thinking about getting my eyebrow pierced.”

 

“You just got a tattoo though,” replies Harry, looking at Liam and trying to imagine him with a hoop through his eyebrow . “You’re into pain more than I thought.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Liam elbows his side.

 

“I’ve wanted it for a while and the piercer at the place I usually go to is having a sale on Tuesday. Seven quid piercings.”

 

“Damn. If I wanted any piercings I’d go. And if I got paid before then.” Harry shrugs though, refocusing on Brave again. He has just enough time to finish the movie and get ready for work before he absolutely has to leave. He plans on utilizing that time.

 

Liam seems to understand because he quiets down and settles next to Harry easily. He’s honestly Harry’s favorite.

 

-

 

Work isn’t always the worst, Harry thinks to himself as he clocks in, waving at Anisha, the only other coworker of his that he likes. Sometimes it’s a slow night, or sometimes most of the customers are nice and tip well. But tonight is definitely not one of those nights. Already when he got to work, he was scolded by one of his managers to put his hair up neater—”You can’t leave your hair all messy like that, it’s unprofessional!”—which was stupid because he always fixes his hair up better in the employee bathroom at work because the lighting is much better. And not only that, but he stubbed his toe on the leg of one of the kitchen tables while he was trying to sway out of the way of a waiter named Josh who was in a hurry.

 

His toe hurts and his manager—not Ben today, thank goodness—keeps giving him dirty looks. Not a great way to start out the night. Plus one of the other waiters didn’t show up so Harry has to take on two more tables than usual. It already seems pretty busy as he finishes putting his apron on, sneaking a glance out into the seating area. “Busy already?” he comments to Anisha who’s walking by.

 

“Yes, very. Also, watch out for table fourteen. Jacob just sat him and said he’s was nice enough but looks like one of those snobbish pricks.” She smiles and rushes off, probably to put in an order.

 

Harry groans; table fourteen is in his section tonight. Lovely.

 

He finds his notepad and pen, then ventures out into the abyss of grumpy customers and loud children. Yet another eight hour night at this dreaded place.

 

After he takes an order from a nice family, he heads over to table fourteen. It’s their most private table, sectioned off from the rest of the restaurant by a wall and a turn. It’s quieter here, as Harry walks up to the man. It’s as he’s saying his usual greeting, “Hello, I’m Harry. I’ll be your server tonight,” that he notices just how beautiful the man is—he looks up with piercing blue eyes shielded by the longest eyelashes and sharpest cheekbones. His cute button nose leads down to thin but pink lips, and his chin is covered in light stubble that Harry wouldn’t mind rubbing against his own face. Underneath it all is a smart suit that looks as if it’s been tailored to his body perfectly. Even his hair is swirled perfectly with different tones, Harry would almost call it a cinnamon roll.

 

Even with the expensive clothes and facial expression, he’s hotter than any man Harry’s ever seen before.

 

Harry quickly shakes himself out of it after he realises the man asked him something. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

 

“I asked if the cod is any good. The last place I went to it was greasy and almost burnt.” His voice has a higher pitch than Harry was expecting but it’s still very strong and firm, could steal everybody’s attention in a matter of seconds.

 

Harry doesn’t swoon.

 

“I personally would recommend the pasta. It’s made fresh everyday and more healthy than you’d think,” Harry replies. He does like the pasta from here the best.

 

The man nods, smirk forming on his face. Harry feels himself blush and ducks his head as he listens. “Whatever you’ve got with chicken and cheesy sauce or as close as you can get, please. I’d also like some french bread on the side.” Simple but also fancy. Harry is impressed.

 

He knows just the meal to get for the man, jotting it down quickly on his notepad. “Would you like an appetizer while you wait?”

 

“Oh, I’d love an appetizer,” that voice drawls, piercing eyes travelling down and back up Harry’s body very obviously. Harry feels himself burn, all the way down to his chest, not knowing at all what to say. “But,” blue eyes continues, “He looks pretty busy right now, so I’ll take what I can get.”

 

“I’ll have that right out, sir.” Harry quickly smiles and scurries away. He’s been hit on and flirted with before but not that blatantly and not by somebody nearly as attractive as that man. Usually it’s older ladies.

 

He’s a bit shaken but also giddy. An attractive man just checked him out. Harry’s been in a bit of a dry spell lately, mostly because he’s been focusing on work and school so much. It’s nice to know he doesn’t look like a complete slob.

 

He runs his usual rounds around his tables, eventually coming back to cinnamon swirl (he really needs to pick a name for him), to refill his wine and make sure he’s doing alright. Just like before, the man is very flirty with Harry, and Harry can feel those eyes on him as he’s walking away. For some reason he feels the need to make sure this man is happy as ever. He’s never usually this way with customers, trying his best without feeling like he actually needs to make sure they are happy.

 

But with blue eyes, Harry tries more than his best to keep him happy, coming back by his table more often than not to check on him and his food once it comes out. But there’s only so many times Harry can check on him without seeming creepy or needy, so he tones it down a bit.

 

Harry’s surprised when the man stays for almost an hour. He’d understand it for a family, but for a one man party they usually eat and leave. Once this guy is done eating, he orders desert and then more wine after that, sipping at it while he looks through something on his iPad. Harry’s seated and cleaned up after two couples by the time this man finally asks for his check. And he doesn’t even look at it after Harry hands it to him, just slips his card in and winks at Harry before he turns and leaves. “Thank you for the wonderful meal,” he says to Harry as he’s handing the card and receipt back.

 

“Well I didn’t make it, but you’re welcome, I guess,” Harry plays along.

 

“The service wasn’t so bad either. Think they’d let me steal you away?”

 

Harry gulps, biting his lip and looking away. “I don’t think they’d be too happy if you did,” says Harry. Deciding to flirt back just a little, he winks and says, “Although I wouldn’t mind it a bit.”

 

Those blue eyes widen, and Harry almost freaks out, knowing he should’ve kept it professional. But then the man’s face turns as he stands, stepping close enough for Harry to smell his cologne—a heavenly scent—and whispers, “You better not be lying to me Harry.” His hand slips into Harry’s briefly then disappears, and it’s after he winks at Harry that he then turns to walk away, Harry’s eyes caught on that wonderful arse, that he notices the paper in his hand.

 

Harry stares after him until he’s rounded the corner and is out of sight, then looks down at the folded paper in his hand. He unfolds it, surprised to see what looks to be a folded up £50 note fall to the ground. He snatches it up real quick, eyes bulging because it is a _£50 note_. The biggest tip he’s ever received was £10 on a £50 meal from a family. This is a bit outrageous, to be honest. Harry’s hoping the man didn’t realise what exactly he was giving Harry because he honestly can’t accept this. The actual paper has a set of numbers on it and the name _Louis_ under it, along with a couple Xs.

 

_Louis_ , Harry whispers to himself. It’s a name fit for the rich, and Harry barely has time to roll it around in his head and remember Louis’ face before stuffing the paper and note in his pocket so he can clean up the table. He has to get back to work before his boss realises he’s gone.

  


Harry’s just clocked out and is walking out of the front doors when he sees the black, sleek car—a BMW, Harry corrects himself after seeing the wheels—parked right out front. Harry’s never seen it before, and it’s just sitting there. A second later Harry shakes his head and turns, deciding to walk around the side of the restaurant. It’s late, dark outside, so Harry makes sure he’s holding his pocket knife in his hand just in case.

 

“Hey!” someone yells to him, startling Harry into dropping his phone and the knife. He quickly picks both up, barely sparing a glance at the small crack along the bottom of his phone screen before turning around to see the same black BMW, now following him. The back window is half way down but Harry still can’t see who’s inside. He frowns, slowly turning away and walking again.

 

“Harry!” the voice calls this time, sounding much more familiar. With wide eyes Harry turns again to see Louis jumping out of the backseat and jogging towards him. There’s a dazzling smile on his face, blinding Harry even at night, and his eyes shine brightly. “Glad I caught you.”

 

“Um.” He doesn’t know what else to say. He just met this man today, _served_ him, so it’s not like they’ve been best mates since primary or anything. He doesn’t understand why Louis’ being so friendly. Sure they flirted in the restaurant but that was all, or so Harry thought? “Hi?” he eventually answers.

 

“Sorry, this is probably weird,” Louis starts, looking a bit nervous now. He rubs the back of his neck, and Harry tries not to stare at the expensive fabric of his suit. “And forward,” he continues, “But you’re very pretty, um, _handsome_ , and I just couldn’t pass up the chance to ask you out?”

 

“You want to ask me out,” Harry deadpans, not believing Louis for a second. He’s never been deliberately asked out like this by someone as attractive as Louis, let alone someone who obviously has money. “First you tip me £50 then you ask me out? Is this supposed to be a joke or…?”

 

“What? No.” Louis shakes his head, stepping closer to look Harry straight in the eyes. “I don’t usually do this—there are a lot of people trying to date me or get in my pants or whatever just because I come from money so it’s rare that I’m actually attracted to someone enough to ask them out. Sorry, not trying to dish out a sob story. The point is—” Louis smiles this soft thing that makes Harry’s stomach do flips, “—I’d like to get to know you. Just one date and if you don’t like it I’ll leave you alone.”

 

Harry doesn’t know what to say. Louis seems so earnest, like he actually does want to get to know Harry better. This is a bit forward and rushed, and if Harry agrees to go on a date with this almost stranger, he’s going to need some time to think about it. “Maybe not yet?” he decides, biting his lip for a second. “I don’t know you, and I’d feel much better if maybe we texted or something for a little while before?” He can’t believe he’s basically saying yes—with a wait, of course. Liam is going to kill him.

 

Louis looks so relieved, nodding enthusiastically. “Of course, that’s perfect. I already gave you my number, so just text any time. I might not always reply during the week because I’ll be busy at work.”

 

“That’s fine,” replies Harry, “I’d just feel more comfortable. I’ll, um, text you?”

 

“Please do.” Louis smiles so brightly, looking excited, and Harry feels himself blush as he smiles back. “I have to go now. Bye Harry.” Louis squeezes Harry’s shoulder with a strong grip, sending Harry’s mind other places as he waves bye. He watches long after Louis’ car pulls away, then decides he should probably head home.

 

When he does get there, Liam is passed out on the couch so Harry covers him with the spare duvet, promising to tell Liam in the morning.

 

-

 

Liam sort of freaks out when Harry tells him over breakfast the next morning. “You gave your number to a random customer? Harry, what the fuck?”

 

“He was nice and tipped me £50. And he’s not old or anything. Maybe five or six years older than me.” Harry takes another bite of his cereal, then points his spoon at Liam. “Plus, do you really have room to talk after Sophia?”

 

Sophia. Harry remembers him her, most likely because she was Liam’s last and only official girlfriend. They’d dated through Liam’s first year of uni, and had started as a one night stand after meeting in a pub, fairly intoxicated. The one night stand turned into another, and then a friends with benefits type thing, until they finally decided to get together two months in. Harry had been skeptical about the girl at first, who was obviously too old for uni and who had more than enough money, but Liam liked her very much so Harry trusted her.

 

As it turned out, Sophia was a great girl, very wonderful and respectful towards Liam which Harry approved of.

 

She was offered a job in Mulan, more like a paid internship, and though she was more than capable of moving both herself and Liam, Liam had decided to stay and finish uni, live with Harry. They both decided long distance wasn’t the best for them, though Liam was torn up about it for the longest time. He’d only just dated this girl named Danielle for five months. They broke up two weeks ago.

 

Point is, he didn’t have room to talk. Sophia was older and well-off and they started their relationship quickly.

 

Liam sighs. “You’re right, I guess. But I’m still worried. I think I will be until I meet him.”

 

“I felt the same way with Sophia, you know… Besides, I’m just texting him for now. I’m not stupid enough to jump right into anything like that.” Harry hasn’t actually texted Louis yet, but he knows he will as soon as breakfast is over and he’s in the safety of his room. He didn’t want to text last night because he didn’t want to seem too eager.

 

“I know you’re not.” Squeezing Harry’s shoulder, and with a slightly reluctant smile, Liam gets up and says, “I just worry. Stay safe, alright?”

 

“You know I will,” replies Harry with a small wave as Liam walks to his room. As soon as his door is shut, Harry fishes his phone out from underneath his thigh and pulls up Louis’ contact—he saved it last night right before falling asleep.

 

‘ _Hi Louis. This is Harry, the waiter from last night? How are you?_ ’ Harry sends it after reading through it twice, half nervous about the fact that Louis might not text him back, and half nervous that he will text back.

 

To distract himself, Harry decides to do some laundry and tidy up the flat a little. There’s a few dishes from the day before and the rug in the living room could use a good vacuuming. By the time Harry heads off for his afternoon class, Louis hasn’t texted back yet and he’s about ready to delete the number. Maybe that’s an overreaction but after Louis’ spectacle outside Harry’s workplace last night, Harry feels he’s justified.

 

Like always, Harry turns his phone on silent during class. Not like always, he has three texts by the time class is over and he needs to start getting ready for work again. Sometimes he’ll have one from Liam or a missed call from his mum, but three from Louis shine in Harry’s face and he almost does a little dance. They all make Harry smile.

 

‘ _Hey Harry ! Sorry for not replying , I’ve been busy all day at work . I guess that answers how I’ve been . How are you ?_ ’’

 

‘ _I just wanted to reinforce what I said last night , I do think you’re very beautiful and wonderful to be around and I plan on proving that to you as soon as you’ll let me ._ ’

 

And then the last one makes Harry chuckle, ‘ _also if my step brother gets ahold of my phone or ipad and starts messaging you please ignore it . He always somehow does that , You should be able to tell who is who ._ ’

 

So he _does_ like Harry. Louis is a very committed person, and he has a stepbrother who’s a pain in the arse. Harry realises he doesn’t know what Louis does for a living, but he also couldn’t smile any bigger than he is right now. He can spare a couple seconds to sit on his bed and think of a decent reply. He’s never put this much thought into a text before, but that’s alright because Harry genuinely likes this guy.

 

‘ _I’m alright. About to head into work myself. What do you do? If that’s not too personal to ask.._ ’

 

After a second he also decides to send, ‘ _And as long as your step brother doesn’t send any nudes I think I’ll be fine :)_ ’

 

Now that he knows that Louis had been at work all day, and probably still is, Harry doesn’t mind not getting an immediate reply. He sends off a quick text to Liam saying he’ll probably be off to work by the time Liam gets home, then he hops in the shower. He just has to get through one more evening, then he has tomorrow off. Thank goodness.

 

-

 

It’s Harry’s evening off and instead of being lazy like he hoped he’d be able to, he’s bundled in a coat, scarf, beanie, and fingerless gloves, sitting in a park bench with his camera in his lap. It’s colder than yesterday, and the metal of his camera isn’t helping anything, but Harry’s professor, Miss Vile, asked him to take some pictures of the uni courtyard in the cold. It hasn’t snowed, but instead freezing rain all morning up until Harry left his flat. The ground is slick, people are hurrying from one place to another, and the bare trees plants are covered in ice.

 

Sure the scenery is somewhat pretty, especially at the park, but Harry would much rather spend his days off inside reading rather than exploring the cold, November air.

 

But he likes making Miss Vile happy, so Harry powers through it, capturing a picture of an icicle frozen to a perfect point, hanging off a lamppost. There are plenty of sights to catch, so after just an hour, Harry decides to call it quits and try to warm his fingers up. The walk home isn’t too far but Harry’s already been outside long enough, so he treats himself to a coffee from this small coffee shop across the street from the park. It’s very warm inside and it smells like carnations and honey, and Harry’s coffee warms his insides instantly.

 

He’s looking through the pictures he took when his phone buzzes on the table, lighting up to show Louis’ contact name on the screen. They’d texted a little bit after Harry had got off work last night, and then a little this morning while Louis was on an early lunch break. Louis had a meeting to get to eventually though, so it’s been a few hours since then.

 

Harry tries to ignore the flip his stomach does at the sight of Louis’ name. He barely knows the lad; he can’t already be crushing on him.

 

‘ _The meeting went on forever omg had to get zayn to fake an emergency call_ ’

 

Zayn, Harry had found out last night, is Louis’ step brother he’d been talking about. They’re also, apparently, coworkers. Harry snickers, sipping some more at his coffee while he replies, ‘ _That’s nice of him. If you ever need me to fake an emergency call I’m more than willing ;)_ ’

 

They’ve been just as flirty through text as they were in the restaurant. It makes Harry giddy.

 

The reply comes not even two minutes later, as Harry is throwing his empty coffee cup away, in the form of Facetime. Harry mentally freaks out for a split second before realising—Louis already knows what he looks like. He quickly fluffs out the hair that isn’t under his beanie, then answers, waiting for the connection to go through and Louis’ face to pop up. It only takes a second, and then Harry can see Louis’ bright smile and tired eyes, and what looks to be his toasty office behind him.

 

“You look warm,” he comments right away, half jealous, as he turns the corner, heading back to his flat.

 

“ _I am_ ,” Louis replies with a chuckle, scratching his chin. “You look freezing. Why’re you outside?”

 

Harry quickly sidesteps a man yelling into his phone, sending Louis a frightened look, who rolls his eyes with a giggle. Harry’s glad he has headphones so he can hear Louis properly. “I had an assignment to finish. No big deal. I’m on my way home right now.”

 

“Good. Your nose looks like it’s about to fall off, that’s how red it is.” Louis smiles at his own teasing, and Harry can’t help but smile as well.

 

“I’ll be fine,” he reassures Louis, then decides to steer the conversation away from himself.  “So the meeting went on forever?”

 

Louis groans and buries his face in his hands. “Yes,” he almost growls, “Nobody could agree on anything. I basically sat there listening to them bicker back and forth. Half the time they didn’t seem to realise they were fighting about something so futile right in front of their boss.”

 

Harry still doesn’t know what Louis does for a living, but he’ll wait until Louis tells him. “Sounds boring. At least you were warm though.”

 

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m not crazy enough to freeze my bollocks off like you.” Louis rolls his eyes but he looks amused nonetheless, giving Harry butterflies. He’s just so pretty, even when he’s not trying to be. “What assignment could be so important that you had to do it outside? I spent my uni days either locked in my room or locked in Zayn’s room. No way was I gonna study in the cold.”

 

“I’m getting my fine art and media degree, specialising in photography.” Harry holds his camera up in front of his phone camera, waving it a little to show Louis. “The scenery in the park is really pretty and my prof asked for some pictures. I like her well enough so I got some for her. Not all of us have desk jobs, you know,” Harry teases just the slightest, letting his camera rest against his chest by the strap like before as he smiles at the man on the screen.

 

“Oh goodness, are you another one of those hipster artists? Never washes your hair, wears the weirdest outfits? So pretentious, especially about your own work?” Louis sounds disgusted but he’s smiling, so Harry plays along.

 

“I most certainly am not. But,” he says with a smirk, “If that’s what you’re into I know the perfect guy. His name is Nick Grimshaw—”

 

“—He already sounds so fucking pretentious—”

 

“—And he’s very outgoing and hipster-y, and he wears so many different colours and patterns, and he’s a right arse. You’d love him.” Louis looks like he’s about to start laughing, and Harry mentally congratulates himself for doing that. Louis’ crinkly-eyed smile is so cute, Harry could stare at it forever.

 

With a small giggle, Louis says, “He sounds so fake. Maybe you should be a writer because that’s a great character you came up with.”

 

Now Harry laughs, thinking about his friend Nick who he hasn’t talked to in a while. He’d get a kick out of this. “He’s very real, I promise. You don’t believe me?”

 

“Prove it.”

 

Harry sighs but goes along with it. “Fine. He’s on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, Snapchat—he’s got every social media imaginable. His name is Nick Grimshaw, although on Snapchat and Tumblr he’s GrimmySucks. Don’t go developing a crush on him though. I might get jealous.” He winks, loving the over exaggerated eye roll Louis does.

 

“Pfft! Like anyone could beat those pretty eyes of yours.” Harry feels himself blush, thankful for being able to blame it on the cold if he needs to. He can hear Louis clicking around on his computer, and not a minute later he’s laughing so hard he’s slapping the table. His laugh is magical, that’s the only way Harry can describe it. “God, he does look like the stereotypical hipster. Is he an arsehole?”

 

“Nick can be a huge arse sometimes but he’s also a huge softy on the inside. That’s why I kept him around for so long. He’s in London now though, some big job deal or another.”

 

“Well good.” Louis waggles his eyebrows. “With him so far away there’s no competition.”

 

Confused, Harry replies, “There’s no competition to begin with. Nick and I are just friends.”

 

“Good. It better stay that way, because I plan on wining-and-dining you so hard.”

 

Harry chuckles, feeling his heart race a little. He’s almost home by now, and Louis’ already managed to make him blush twice. He can’t wait until their first date; if Louis asked him right now, he’d probably say yes, and they haven’t even been texting that long.

 

“I can’t wait,” Harry says back quietly, as he steps into the lobby of his building. It’s significantly quieter and warmer, and Harry feels himself shiver one last time as he takes his beanie off.

 

Louis’ watching him with rapt eyes, a small smile playing at his lips. “Really?” he asks when they make eye contact again.

 

“Yeah, really. I’ve got to babysit my sisters cat tomorrow and then I have work again, as well as every evening for the rest of this week, but I’m pretty sure I’m free in the evenings this weekend.” Maybe Harry’s shooting a little far—Louis said he’d be the one asking Harry—but he loves Louis’ laugh and how Louis always replies as best as he can, and how they’ve basically been talking these past three days nonstop, except for when they’re asleep or when Louis’ in a meeting. He’d love to see Louis again in person.

 

“I literally have no plans at all this weekend, which is rare. Please tell me you’ll let me take you out?” Louis looks as excited as Harry feels, leaning closer to the camera than before. Harry’s finally made it up the stairs and is walking inside his flat, only to see Liam half naked on the couch with a bowl of crisps in his lap.

 

“Of course you can take me out,” he replies, looking straight at Louis as he shuts the door behind himself. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Liam sit up straight, watching him instead of the TV now. As Harry kicks his boots off and struggles to take his coat off from under his camera strap, he adds, “I get off work Saturday at three so whenever fter that.”

 

“Perfect! I can pick you up sometime. Oh! And dress fancy. I’m doing this right,” Louis says smugly. He looks so happy, typing away on his computer. Harry shakes his head, smiling as he walks to sit next to Liam, sneakily showing Louis to him while Louis is distracted. Liam gives him a thumbs up, and Harry smiles.

 

“I should probably go soon,” he says after making sure Liam is no longer visible. “I need to email these pictures to Miss Vile and get some warm coffee in me, or something.”

 

Louis visibly pouts but he turns away from his computer long enough to say goodbye. He gives Harry this dazzling smile that makes his insides tingle a little, quickly saying goodbye to stop the onslaught of emotions.

 

Liam’s first words are, “You like him! You like him!”

 

“You sound like you’re in college,” Harry replies, “Grow up a little. Of course I like him. We’re going out Saturday, since you didn’t have the headphones in… I have to dress nice.” Although Harry told Liam to grow up, he feels like he’s in college himself, and has a huge crush on a guy. Louis just makes him feel so giddy and happy, he doesn’t understand why.

 

Liam passes the crisps over—he always knows just what Harry needs—as he says, “I knew I didn’t like this at first but I’m glad you’re actually dating again. How long’s it been? _Don’t take this the wrong way_ ,” he quickly says before Harry can interject like he was going to, “But you’ve been a bit cranky lately and I was honestly about to tell you to get a boyfriend or get laid.”

 

“I’ve—”

 

“—Been busy with classwork and the restaurant blah blah, _I know_. You’re always busy with classwork and the restaurant, Harry. You deserve more than a couple dates here and there.” Maybe Liam is right, but he obviously doesn’t understand _why_ Harry is so busy all the time. He obviously doesn’t realise the situation Harry is in is very hard, and Harry hates being mad at Liam but he has to defend himself.

 

“Well I’m sorry we can’t all come with well-off parents who constantly send us money, okay? Some of us actually have to work to live.” It’s a very touchy subject and Liam should know this. He _does_ know this, but Harry still doesn’t like that he’ll just disregard these things like that.

 

He gets up and walks to his room, ignoring Liam calling his name. Harry loves Liam and knows Liam means well, but he sometimes just needs time to himself, and sending these photos to Miss Vile is the perfect time.

 

A couple of hours later, he’s finished editing the ones he liked and emailing them to his professor, so Harry slowly makes his way back into the flat. Liam is being lazy on the couch just like earlier, but he jumps up when he sees Harry come out. Harry walks over and hugs him right away. “Sorry for being a twat earlier but you know how I am when it comes to that… stuff.”

 

“I know, and _I’m_ sorry for being a twat. You had every right to be. I should’ve remembered.” Liam hugs back just a tight—he always gives the best hugs. It’s one of the reasons Harry keeps him around.

 

“Well either way,” Harry says, pulling away to look at Liam. “We were both twats, so it’s fine. But you do realise I can’t just treat work lightly. It’s not something that’s optional for me.”

 

“Yes, I know.I just think sometimes you deserve some down time and someone other than me or your sister to spend it with.” Liam brushes some hair behind Harry’s ear, then pats his cheek. “Louis will be good for you as long as you let him.”

 

Harry leans into the touch before Liam pulls his hand away, replying, “I am letting him. On Saturday.”

 

“Good.” Liam smiles for a second before nudging Harry. “I’m hungry. We should make something.”

 

“You mean _I_ should make something? Real smooth, Payno.” Harry twists Liam’s nipple before pushing him away, going to find something that will appease Liam’s appetite.

 

-

 

Saturday evening couldn’t come soon enough.

 

It’s barely one, they’ve had a slower than usual day at work, and Harry can’t find anything to do to keep his mind off his and Louis’ date later on. With such few customers, Harry’s left cleaning, and cleaning is what he usually does when he needs to think about things. Right now, however, he doesn’t want to think at all. He’s nervous, to be honest, and cleaning isn’t passing the time like he’d like it to.

 

Thankfully, one of his bosses lets him leave early—they’re slow enough that they don’t need a lot of people on hand like usual—so Harry is able to leave. He still has about three hours until Louis is supposed to pick him up, so Harry goes for a short run, blaring music in his headphones to distract him. By the time he gets back, he has enough time to shower and blow dry his hair—it’s fluffier than usual but he brushes it, which helps a lot—then he drags Liam into his bedroom to help him find clothes.

 

“The nicest thing I can go with, without wearing my old suit, is my black skinnies and whatever shirt,” Harry explains, laying them on the bed next to Liam to see. “I have my dress shoes which might work, but what shirt?”

 

Liam hums, then gets up to look in Harry’s closet. He pulls out a loose, floral shirt Harry got from a thrift store, and one of Harry’s black button ups. “The floral is more your personality, but the black is really nice. I’d say one of these. You can wear the black suit jacket with the floral shirt, or just do the black button up and leave it half unbuttoned like you do.”

 

Those are both good ideas—Harry’s glad to have Liam around for times like this. “Thanks Li. I’ll probably go with the black and my long necklaces.”

 

Liam helps him right his shirt after he tucks it in. “This is more seethrough than I thought,” comments Liam, after he helps Harry make sure it’s even. “But I think that works best.”

 

“Yeah, ‘s why I like it,” Harry replies. He fits the bottoms of his skinnies over his dress shoes. They’re more boots than anything but they’re a matte black which are very nice. Harry finds his cross necklace and the extra silver chain, then pins part of his hair back on the left side so most of it is flowing in the back and on the right side. He spritzes on some of his expensive cologne (a gift from his granddad) then checks his phone to see Louis texted a few minutes ago.

 

‘ _Just left , on my way :)_ ’ it says, making Harry smile to himself. He checks himself in his mirror one last time. All black was definitely the way to go. He may not have money but he knows how to clean up when he needs to.

 

Liam whistles when he walks into the living room, waggling his eyebrows. “You used your fancy cologne. You do like him.” He looks impressed, and Harry rolls his eyes. “We’ve established this. Yes, I like him. He’s on his way.”

 

“Well, have fun. Don’t let him in your pants.” Liam winks and Harry rolls his eyes again. “I’m just saying,” Liam adds, “Don’t put out; don’t want to scare him off.”

 

“I can take care of myself. _Bye_ Liam.” Harry gives him a quick hug anyway, then skips out the door, making sure he has his keys, wallet, and phone. By the time he’s downstairs and has said his usual greetings to the doorman, Louis texts saying he’s outside. Quickly Harry slips outside, but doesn’t find what he was looking for. He should’ve known not to expect the same black car he saw at the restaurant; Louis doesn’t need a car service all the time. Instead, there’s an old, beaten down pick up across the street, and a Bentley sitting right in front of him. Harry doesn’t know much about cars, but he does know that this Bentley is very beautiful, looks brand new, and that it belongs to Louis.

 

“Harry!” Louis calls as he steps out. His eyes are bright and he’s smiling, bright teeth showing as he walks towards Harry. He surprises Harry by wrapping him in a hug, warm scent engulfing Harry’s nostrils and making him sigh quietly as he hugs back.

 

“Hi Louis,” Harry greets back after pulling away. He’s smiling too, letting Louis take his hand and lead him to the car.

 

“You look beautiful. The black is really working for you.” Louis’ compliment has Harry flushing, smiling as he gets into the passenger side after Louis opens the door for him.

 

He says, “Thank you,” both to the compliment and to Louis holding the door open for him. He waits until Louis in settled in on his side before adding, “You look great in red,” eyes catching on Louis’ dark red shirt under a black blazer, his own black skinnies tight enough to rival Harry’s. His hair is up in a swirly quif, different streaks of color, though subtle, reminding Harry of a cinnamon roll.

 

“Well thank you, Harry. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to wear this shirt or the blue one.”

 

Harry smiles, putting his seatbelt on while Louis pulls into the street. He imagines Louis wearing blue instead, maybe a darker, greenish blue. Louis would look great in any color, in Harry’s opinion, but he doesn't voice that out loud, instead he shifts in his seat until he’s facing Louis more, eyes focused on the slight stubble along his jaw. “Good thing I wore black. Wouldn’t want to clash.”

 

Louis chuckles, side-glancing at Harry with a smile. “That would be horrific, especially going to the place that we are,” he says, and Harry almost rolls his eyes before he actually takes in what Louis said.

 

At a normal restaurant, like the one he works at, it doesn’t matter if you don’t match your partner. It’s not McDonalds where you can wear whatever and nobody cares, but it’s also not a five star restaurant. Harry wonders just how rich Louis really is, if he can afford this Bentley and take Harry to (probably a five-star) restaurant where clashing clothes is looked down upon. “Where, exactly, are we going?” he asks slowly.

 

“San Carlo,” answers Louis casually, as if it isn’t one of the nicest luxury restaurants in the whole city. Harry’s never been there, but he’s heard so many good remarks; it’s posh and very modern, and the food is very delicious yet xpensive. Harry didn’t think Louis would go this far on a first date, it’s a bit much, to be honest. “It’s my sister, Lottie’s favorite. She actually recommended it for tonight.”

 

Despite his discomfort with Louis obviously trying to spend a lot on him, Harry smiles, and says, “You asked your sister to recommend a place?”

 

Again Louis chuckles, like it’s no big deal, and waves his hand around a little. “I asked her for ideas for the whole date. I’m not very good at this, honestly.”

 

Harry sees the slight nervousness in Louis’ features—the way he bites his lip momentarily, the slight crease between his eyebrows, and how he doesn't look at Harry at all. It’s quite cute, actually, and Harry smiles to himself. “That’s actually really cute. I used to always ask my sister for advice, before she moved to Wales.”

 

“I guess that's what sisters are best for, then,” Louis says, smiling at Harry as he pulls up in front of San Carlo. It’s very fancy, so fancy the valet people are wearing what looks to be fitted suits. Harry’s eyes go wide as he sees other people standing around, all dressed to the nines, as well as a couple of photographers across the street.

 

“Why are there photographers across the street?” Harry asks quietly, as they pull up slowly. There are people staring at Louis’ car, though Harry knows no one can see them inside because of the tinted windows. He still lowers his head a little.

 

Louis laughs, actually laughs, which might be the cutest thing Harry’s ever heard, to be honest. He bites back a smile as he watches Louis, from him to the photographers, and back to Louis. “Those are paps, Harry. Paparazzi. There’s probably a footie player in here or something. Unless Niall made a dick move and tipped them off again.” He looks thoughtful for a moment, before shrugging and taking Harry’s hand in his. “You don’t care, do you? I mean, I don’t get papped a lot, it’s rare, actually, but they’ll probably be interested if they see I’m here with a hot date.”

 

Lost for a minute, Harry furrows his eyebrows and glances at the supposed paps again. He didn’t even know there were paps in Manchester. Then again, he rarely pays attention the tabloids; he thinks it’s invasive, knowing about everybody's lives. He also didn’t know Louis was rich (famous?) enough to be papped. “What, exactly, do you do?” Then he remembers Louis saying a name. “And who is Niall?”

 

“Niall’s me childhood best friend. His mum and my mum were best friends before we were even born, so it’s been a long run.” Louis pulls up a picture of the lad in name on his phone. It’s of Louis and Niall, whose skin, eyes, and hair are lighter. There’s a cap on his head and he’s smiling the camera. Louis, on the other hand, looks a bit younger, skinny jeans and band shirt completing the picture.

 

“If he’s your mate, why would he sell you out to the paps?” Harry asks as they pull up to the valet.

 

Louis keeps the doors locked, turns towards Harry, and smiles. “Because we’re shit heads to each other. It’s happened before. Are you sure it’s okay? We can leave…” He looks worried, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

 

“I don’t, actually. I’ve always thought it’s too invasive, knowing about people’s lives that I haven’t even met. But I don’t mind.” Harry smiles, reaching over to take Louis’ hand and squeeze it for reassurance.

 

Louis audibly releases a breath, smile wide on his face as he squeezes Harry’s hand back. “Okay, good. Just try to keep your head down and don’t look up if people start talking to you. Not until we’re inside. Let’s go, yeah?”

 

Harry nods and opens the door after Louis unlocks them, stepping out and instantly hearing people’s chatter, Louis’ name popping up here and there, and he waits until he feels Louis’ hand at the small of his back leading him, Louis’ lips brushing his ear—making him shudder—and whispering, “Keep going, it’s alright.”

 

Trusting Louis, Harry follows his lead, smiling when Louis comments on someone’s shoes as they pass by. It’s much quieter once they are inside, the only noise from the host asking a question. Harry finally raises his head, eyes locking with Louis’. He smiles at Louis’ worried look, taking his hand a squeezing it. “I’m fine,” he reassures.

 

“Alright. Let’s go sit.” Louis pulls Harry along, following the waiter to the table. It’s so nice inside, Harry almost balks, slowly following behind Louis with wide eyes as he looks around. They’re seated and Louis orders whatever wine for the both of them—Harry knows very little about wine, doesn't even recognize the name Louis says.

 

After the waiter leaves, Harry sort of word vomits, without meaning to. “What do you do for a living? I-I mean. You already know what I do… It’s not too personal to ask, is it? I just thought—”

 

Louis’ chuckle cuts Harry off. He’s smiling, and Harry worries for the whole second it takes for Louis to reply, “Definitely not too personal. Actually I thought you already knew and were just being polite about not bringing it up. I own twenty percent of the Rovers.”

 

“Wait.” Harry blinks, then shakes his head a little. “The football team?” After Louis nods he finally allows his jaw to drop. Louis is chuckling again but Harry can’t help it. He just— _how_. How does someone come to own part of a football team? “How?” is all he can muster up.

 

For a moment Louis looks like he’s thinking about it, and then he explains, "It's all pretty boring really, I invested in stocks when I was younger and got incredibly lucky. I just so happened to get back five hundred percent of what I invested. And, then I spent that money on what I love most in the world—which is football."

 

Louis was smart with his money and look where it’s gotten him. Harry wishes made enough to have a little extra spending money for something like stocks. "Woah,” he comments anyway with a smile. “That's amazing!"

 

"Well yeah, I suppose. It's not really first date conversation material though, is it? Tell me about you, I want to know about you, Haz.” Louis smiles and it’s the most heart warming smile Harry’s seen in a long time. Louis genuinely wants to know Harry, and that thought makes Harry smile as well.

 

He doesn’t know where to start or what Louis is wanting to know so he just says the basics. “I’m in uni for photography. I live with my best mate Liam. Um…” He shrugs, looking down at the table and feeling a bit insecure. “I have a waitering job. I don't really know what to say.” He shrugs.

 

“Anything you want. What’s your favourite food? Favourite band? Do you have any siblings?”

 

“We might as well play twenty questions,” Harry retorts amusedly. He then goes on to answer, “I love experimenting with mexican food, I absolutely love Coldplay, and I have an older sister named Gemma. What about you?”

 

“Anything sweet honestly. My first concert was The Fray. And I have five sisters and a brother, all younger.” Louis’ eyes crinkle with how wide he’s smiling when he talks about his siblings. It’s the cutest thing.

 

Harry’s also a little surprised at how many siblings Louis has. “Sounds like a busy household,” he comments.

 

“Trust me, it was.” They both chuckle, Harry biting his lip and dropping his gaze when Louis smiles at him. Their waiter has brought them their wine and the menus, so Harry focuses on looking for the least expensive item. Louis must be reading his mind because he taps Harry's hand to get his attention then says, “Order whatever you want, please. Whatever looks good to you.”

 

Harry nods, agreeing. He’d rather not, to be honest, because everything is so expensive. They could’ve gotten a full meal at McDonalds for how much the least expensive entrée is. He looks anyway, a couple of things catching his eye. When he finally chooses something, Louis’ menu is already laying the table in front of him and he’s watching Harry with a smile. “Ready?”

 

“Yeah,” replies Harry, setting his menu down as well. He doesn’t know what to say, but that doesn’t seem to be a problem when Louis speaks up.

 

“Have you always preferred your hair long?” is what he asks, eyeing the ringlets falling over Harry’s shoulders.

 

With a shrug, Harry answers, “To be honest, I’ve just been too lazy lately to get it cut. Plus, I do like the way it makes me look a little older than my short hair does.” Harry touches the pinned part on the left side of his head, smiling as he runs his fingers through the back. “Whenever my sister is in town, she braids it and makes me keep it for a few days so it’s super curly.”

 

“I bet it’s a tangled mess. I remember when Lottie would do that with Fee. And then with Dai and Phoebs after. They even had me do it for them.” Louis looks happy talking about his sisters; it’s the sweetest thing, being able to tell just how much Louis cares about and loves his siblings. Harry smiles, listening to Louis talk about his youngest siblings and how old they’re actually getting.

 

They order their food and the conversation switches to Harry talking about his sister and growing up with her, and then Louis offers to take her and Harry to a game sometime after Harry makes a comment on how she played back in college. Harry politely declines but Louis insists, saying he and whoever he wants is allowed in free since he owns the Rovers so it’s ‘no big deal.’

 

After their food comes—which might be the most delicious food Harry’s ever tasted—the conversation dies down a little while they eat. Louis asks how the it is and Harry doesn’t hold back his almost moan after taking another bite, giving a thumbs up. “Delicious.”

 

“I’m glad you like it.”

 

When they’re both done, Louis asks, “They have some great tiramisu here but I was thinking maybe we could go to this ice cream shop I know of?”

 

“I love ice cream,” Harry says, smiling, as Louis flags down the waiter to pay.

 

(He doesn’t even look at the ticket before handing his card over. Harry almost hyperventilates).

 

“Good. The car will be waiting out back, so you won’t have to worry about any more pictures.” Harry watches as Louis’ face falls slightly. “I’m sorry about that,” Louis adds.

 

Although it was very surprising, and Harry would have liked to know about that beforehand, at least so he and Louis could talk about it, he also finds that he doesn’t mind it very much. “I don’t mind,” he says, “Not as much as I probably should anyway. It’s not like that will be plastered all over the world, right?”

 

“Maybe not the world, but definitely the UK. My ex broke up with me because the whole media aspect was too overwhelming for him.” Louis looks perfectly calm talking about this, something Harry finds very surprising and admirable. “That may have had to do with the fact that he was who I was with when I came out, which meant extra paparazzi everywhere. It’s been a couple years since then, though, so I don’t think it should be a problem.”

 

“Wow.” Harry takes a second to process this, nodding a little. It makes sense that it could be overwhelming, but while Harry is a little nervous about that, he’s more than a little interested in Louis. More than enough so that he honestly doesn’t mind that he got papped on their first date. “Should I maybe call my mum and explain to her before she finds out through the paper?” he teasingly asks, noticing that Louis’ worried face turns into a wide smile.

 

“That would definitely be a good thing to do,” Louis replies.

 

Harry sits in wait while Louis uses the loo, and then they are escorted through the kitchen and to the back. Louis takes Harry’s hand tightly in his at some point, and Harry holds on just as tight, biting back a smile as he follows outside and to Louis’ car. They’re able to safely drive down the alley and out the opposite way, and Harry finally lets himself smile.

 

He doesn’t stop smiling, even when they get to the ice cream shop, which stays open late, and they choose what they want. There’s an open park right across the street that Louis leads him to. It may be dark, but Harry loves how the park looks still. It’s lit up with pretty lamps posts all around, and there’s only a couple other people around.

 

Harry’s licking at his strawberry-banana swirl cone when Louis laces their fingers together. They’ve taken to walking the park sidewalk and making small talk, and it’s so nice. Harry wouldn’t have it any other way. He may have a dump job and a slightly shitty apartment and barely thirty pounds to his name, but he’s holding the hand of the most beautiful man in Manchester and eating delicious ice cream. At the moment he’s content, happy, and that’s a bit of a first.

 

Louis pulls him to sit on a bench after a few minutes of silent walking. His cone is done and Harry is on the last bite of his own as they sit. It’s quiet, Harry watching the way Louis slowly rubs his thumb back and forth on the back of Harry’s hand.

 

“I’m glad you let me take you out,” Louis breaks the silence, looking up and meeting Harry’s eyes. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to agree. You just looked so cute bumbling around the restaurant and trying to make customers happy. You had this certain light in your eyes, like even though you were exhausted and didn’t want to work you still wanted everybody happy. It’s cute.”

 

Harry’s cheeks are on fire, no doubt red; he’s glad it’s dark so maybe Louis won’t notice as easily. “You’re too sweet,” is what he replies, “I’m not that special.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes before taking both of Harry’s hands in his own, turning towards him. “You _are_ special, please don’t think otherwise. I like you, and I’ve enjoyed spending time with you tonight. Please say you’ll go out with me again?”

 

Harry doesn’t even think before saying, “Yes. Of course,” and squeezing Louis’ hands. He’s had fun tonight and he enjoys being around Louis like this.

 

“Good,” Louis breaths out, smiling wide. His smile slowly turns into his biting his lip, their eyes locked. Harry’s neck feels warm as he bites his own lip, staying still while Louis slowly leans in. He stops when he’s an inch away, eyes dropping down to Harry’s lips.

 

Harry closes the distance, sealing their lips and feeling his stomach jump. Louis’ lips are soft, and he kisses slow, like he wants to savor the moment. It’s slow and wonderful, Louis teasing Harry’s lips with his tongue for only a moment before he pulls away.

 

“You’ll text me, yeah?”

 

“I will,” Harry replies.

 

He definitely will. This has been the best night Harry’s had in a long time, all thanks to Louis. He doesn’t plan on letting Louis go any time soon.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fyi, I will be continuing this with a part two that I will gift to gayficlets as well! :)


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